


watch me bleed

by schwifty_rick



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Blood, Self Harm, self mutilation, suidical thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwifty_rick/pseuds/schwifty_rick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How much longer could he go on like this? In a household with a family who’s not his family. Living in a world that’s not his world. Running from the law. Going on adventures. fleeing from exes. Enemies. Losing friends. Fuck, it’s too much. Too much for even the great Rick Sanchez to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	watch me bleed

**Author's Note:**

> this is therapeutic writing in its most vile form. trigger warning.

He pulls the skin taut, finger pressing into the flesh experimentally. Clinical. Detatched. Eye examining the delicate hairs that tickle his thigh. The cool metal is comforting. It anchors him. His mind wanders, thinking, remembering. The war. Bird Person. His ex wife. Beth. Morty. Morty’s death. Another Morty. Another death.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Fuck.

Rick closes his eyes. He’s supposed to be jaded to this shit. _Don’t think about it._ Don’t think about the way Morty’s eyes widened, arm outstretched, the ghost of a word unknown marking his lips right before the red stains and gurgles out -

The blade pierces the skin, and fuck, it hurts. He feels the skin separating, opening himself up, sticky red liquid oozing out quicker than he can dab it away, and shit, he went too deep. The bitter smell of metallic makes the saliva thicken and warm in his mouth, taste buds burning. His heart races and there’s a lump in his throat, painful and the dull ache becomes a sharp blistering twinge.

His hand slips and he swipes the blade a second time.

A third.

A fourth.

He’s lost count. He’s stinging and burning all over, sick smile plastered to his face as he watches the ashy skin redden beautifully. The blade drops to the floor with a clink as he none too kindly shoves his finger into the wound, tampering with it.

He grits his teeth, pushing deeper. His vision dizzies for a moment, and he has to steady himself against his work bench, mind overrun by the disgusting smell. He wants to vomit and pass out, but this is the closest fucking thing he’s gotten to feeling anything but numb these past few months, so he’ll take it. He chokes on the rapidly gathering saliva in his mouth and doubles over in dry heaves.

_Fuck this world. Fuck this life. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it._

He stands, wobbling slightly. The pool of blood at his feet is quickly forgotten as he zombies his way into the shower upstairs. It didn’t matter if anyone was home.

Once in the bathroom, Rick glances in the mirror. The bags under his eyes have grown larger, eyes bloodshot and angry. He’d bitten his lip in his frenzy, and it was bleeding too.

Stepping into the shower, Rick allowed the steaming hot water to pound against his back, stinging his fresh wounds all over again. He hisses, scrubbing at his legs until the bleeding stops.

As the pain ebbs away and his body adjusts, his emotions settle, body numbing over once more.

It’s…never enough. It never will be enough.

How much longer can he go on like this? In a household with a family who’s not his family. Living in a world that’s not his world. Running from the law. Going on adventures. fleeing from exes. Enemies. Losing friends. Fuck, it’s too much. Too much for one person to handle.

Rick turns off the shower, grabs a towel and wraps it around him. He makes his way from the bathroom to his room, remembering that he’ll have to clean up the bloog in the garage before anyone gets home - when he catches Morty walking up the stairs and to his bedroom.

“H-Hey Rick. How are you?” he asks politely ,voice high and genuine.

Rick looks over at this stranger who is and isn’t his grandson. The memories they’ve shared. The lies he’s built. _To protect him,_ of course.

Rick smiles, lips barely able to draw out against his teeth, as if the muscles don’t quite remember how to stretch that far.

“I’m alright,” he croaks, voice gruff. Fortunately for him, this isn’t unusual.

Morty smiles brightly, innocently. _Stupid ignorant kid._ “O-Okay, well, I’m going off to bed. Goodnight.”

Rick nods, watching as his grandson disappears.

 _I’m alright,_ he’d said.

But he wasn’t alright. He wasn’t alright at all.

**Author's Note:**

> come sin with me on tumblr! @schwifty-rick


End file.
